Terms and Letters
by Absense
Summary: The aftermath of the Nesbitt Incident. (Longfic; standard pairings)
1. Chapter 1

Duncan Dewey isn't sure why he's here.

It's a mental asylum, for goodness' sakes. Everything is muted and dull and dim, and the only light comes in through the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. He isn't complaining, of course; he knows that it's all for the benefit of the patients. Criminal masterminds, evil geniuses, people who just want to watch the world burn. Horrible people, who had to be contained by concrete walls and straitjackets, for their benefit and that of everyone else. People who would hurt him if they had the chance.

He shouldn't have arranged a visit. He shouldn't be here.

But should Heathcliff?

That's the question that has been bothering him, plucking at his conscience, keeping him up at all hours of the night. Heathcliff isn't a bad person. He doesn't deserve to be locked up, kept away from his family, kept in this place with these people.

Duncan wants to apologize. That's why he's here.

As a guard guides Duncan to the visiting room, they pass by a couple of people walking together. It's another guard, escorting another villain. They make eye contact, and the villain recognizes him.

"Hello there, nerd boy," Saxon Trace snarls, and suddenly Duncan feels like a deer in the headlights.

Saxon Trace - also known as the Cutie-Pie Killer - is one of the higher-threats that he and the team have had to deal with. He used to live in Arlington, in Julio's neighborhood. He had been behind the murders of at least four little girls. And he had tried to make Matilda the fifth. He hadn't known that he was targeting a trained spy; if he had, he might not have followed her to the Playground. He might not have brought chloroform and his signature weapon. He might not have been caught...

But he had been caught. He's here. He deserves to be here.

"Mr. Trace, it would be in your best interests to not harm this visitor," the guard escorting Duncan warns. His voice is gruff, but at the moment it sounds wonderful.

Trace rolls his eyes but doesn't object. "I'm not going to hurt him," he says. Then, to Duncan: "How's your little girlfriend doing? I hope our... playtime hasn't affected her more than I intended?"

Duncan looks at the floor. Trace begins to laugh that stupid laugh supervillains like, and his guard pulls him away. In a moment the killer is out of sight and Duncan has arrived at the visitor's room.

It's dusty. Considering that most of the prisoners here have been officially unpersoned - the public would never believe what these criminals have done - it makes sense that they do not get many visitors. Government agents, maybe, sometimes, to find out if the prisoners have any other evil plans that need to be compromised, or if they're behind new threats with similar ideas. Ms. Holiday used to do interviews like that, before she was assigned to NERDS. Duncan wonders if she's come here to talk to Heathcliff. He's vaguely confused that he can't remember any mention of her doing so.

But he doesn't have any time to puzzle over it, because at that moment Heathcliff is brought in.

The guards are obviously not used to dealing with children. They push him in with a little more force than necessary, especially since he's in a straitjacket and can't catch himself from falling. Duncan reaches out to help him up, but Heathcliff snaps at him, and one of the guards picks him up instead and sets him down in a chair.

All but one of the guards leave. The one is standing just inside the door, looking away. He's there to make sure this visit does not result in violence. Duncan doesn't think he'll be necessary, but safety measures tend to be there for a reason.

He turns and smiles at his friend - no, the boy who used to be his friend. "Hello. How are you doing?"

Heathcliff's face is red, and he's scowling. Duncan doesn't know what he's going to say. Heathcliff is just the type to try mind games, to manipulate, to disturb and annoy and upset. But at the same time, he looks like he's about to explode.

Finally Heathcliff takes a deep breath. His next words are technically a question, but the way he says it isn't. "Are we going to discuss why I'm here."

When he talks, it's a lot harder to ignore the huge gap in his mouth.

"No, um, actually, I... I'm sorry for knocking out your teeth," Duncan says, "but you were trying to take over the world and at that point it was the only thing I could do-"

"It wasn't necessary. You just wanted to make me powerless. To watch me in pain so that you could feel a little bit better about yourself!" He's angry. His voice is rising. "Do you know what kind of person does that, Duncan? A bully! You're a bully!"

Clearly his speech is supposed to affect Duncan on an emotional level, but Heathcliff is going through the rant at such a high speed that there's no time for the words to sink in. In fact, the effect is something like Flinch with a bag of marshmallows. Combined with the lisp caused by his lack of front teeth, it's actually kind of funny.

The tantrum also confirms Duncan's belief that Heathcliff is just spoiled, not insane. He's not the type to hurt people if it isn't necessary. He's not a psychopath. He doesn't need to be in a mental hospital.

"Are you doing alright here?" Duncan asks, interrupting.

Heathcliff stops. He does not seem at all pleased that his lecture has been dismissed so easily. "Oh, I'm doing _fine._ Chucky Swiller is such an _excellent_ roommate. Did you know that he must pick his nose eight times a day or else the sky will fall? The voices in his head told him so."

"I didn't know that."

"Sarcasm, Duncan."

"I know." Back on topic. "Well, you might not have to stay here, you know. If we can prove that you're sane -"

"You'll give me my upgrades and take me back on the team?" He still sounds angry, but at least he's smiling a bit now.

Duncan nods, a bit reluctantly, but still a nod. "It hasn't been the same without you."

"Never_._"

"What?"

"Gluestick, Gluestick, Gluestick." Heathcliff clicks his tongue as if talking to a particularly obtuse child. "The team betrayed me. You betrayed me. As long as the NERDS are going to sit back and let the bullies rule the world, I'll never call myself one of them." He licks his lips. "Though I would like my upgrades back, as soon as possible, please."

"I can't... I can't do that."

Heathcliff glares at him, then pouts and turns to the wall. They sit in silence. The visit will be over in twenty minutes - the prison officials thought that for two kids half an hour was a reasonable time - it really isn't, not if Heathcliff decides to waste it with false accusations and the silent treatment.

As Duncan struggles to figure out what to say, Heathcliff does it for him. "Why did you come?"

He's making eye contact now, squirming a bit in the straitjacket. "I mean, you're just the type to feel guilty and want to apologize, but... why you?"

"You mean... why not someone else?"

He nods. "I never thought you would take the initiative to set up a visit. You just mull over things. You don't do anything about them." He leans back. If his hands weren't tied he would probably be resting his chin on them. He runs his tongue through the gap in his teeth again. "Ms. Holiday hasn't come yet, but to be honest, she's not the one I'm waiting for."

Then who? Duncan doesn't know if he should ask. Probably one of his old classmates. Flinch and Matilda are obviously out. Jackson, maybe? No, Heathcliff isn't dumb enough to think that Jackson would come voluntarily. And it couldn't be Ruby. Ruby pushed him off a cliff. She's not feeling very charitable towards him right now. But she was always the closest to Heathcliff when he was on the team...

Upon hearing his name, Duncan snaps to attention.

"Welcome back to reality. I've been waiting for you." Heathcliff says dryly. He's staring at him, mouth pressed in a line, eyebrow cocked. Duncan has seen that expression before. It's the same look suspects take when they're afraid they've let something slip.

"Sorry, I kinda zoned out there."

"Good to know. So, as I was saying, I'm expecting someone else." He puts the Cheshire cat smile back on. It's a good smile, because it doesn't show his teeth. "And once they come, I will begin my next plan to take over the world." He closes his eyes, imagining. "I guess it's only fair that I warn you that I will be using Matilda to do it."

Duncan jumps, catching the attention of the guard. "What?"

Heathcliff smirks and looks at the ceiling. This is the reaction he's been aiming for. "Matilda Choi is a very tough little girl. Oh, I'm sorry, little_ tomboy_. The rest of my enemies will be disposed of through violent and bloody means, but not her. I can't help but think she would enjoy going out in a fight." His voice is falsely cheery, with emphasis on all the right words, and Duncan wonders how many times he's rehearsed it. "So I've come up with something fitting for someone like her- I use her to get my upgrades back, kill you all and make her watch, and then force her to be my personal _cheerleader._Perfect, hm?"

When he doesn't answer, Heathcliff tries again. "So? What do you think?"

Duncan blinks, glances at the guard. He holds up two fingers._ This visit will be over in two minutes. _

"I'm not coming back here again."

Heathcliff frowns.

* * *

As he's being led to the front door, Duncan reflects.

His former friend doesn't seem to want to be released - at least, he doesn't want to try to make things like they used to be. He's already got another evil plan in motion somewhere. And he seemed pretty adamant when he called the NERDS his enemies.

_But he doesn't deserve to be here._

The place doesn't seem to have hurt Heathcliff at all - in fact, he seemed bored. He's been here for almost a month. If people like Saxon Trace were able to get to him, he'd be in a lot worse shape than he was.

It can't be that bad, here.

And that's another load off of Duncan's conscience.


	2. Chapter 2

Ruby is the only NERD who knows where Duncan went. That's because he had invited her to come - if she wanted to - if it wasn't too much trouble - if she wasn't mad at Heathcliff. Of course she refused. As the team captain, her responsibility extended only to the team; if it had been Choppers forcefully admitted to the asylum, she would have come, with all the force and fake documents necessary to get him out.

But Simon isn't Choppers, and she could care less. Or at least, that's what she tells Duncan right before he leaves.

Afterwards she is alone at the bus stop. It's Saturday, a free day, with no school and no spy work and lots and lots of having to deal with allergies. Usually she spends her weekends in the library reading classics. Today she had intended on doing the same, but the back of her throat is itchy and that means she needs to figure out something. (She's allergic to ambiguous emotions.)

She sits at the bus stop and thinks about Heathcliff.

Less than six weeks ago she saw him robbing a bank, and she was happy about it.

No, Ruby rationalizes. She was happy at seeing him alive, not seeing him rob banks. She hadn't expected him to come back after she pushed him. She truly thought he had died. The concept hadn't bothered her as much as it would a normal kid - she was a trained spy, after all, and she had seem more than one traitor die in the three years she had been a NERD. But that scared her too, because Choppers was part of her team and she had virtually stabbed him in the back. Not like there was anything else she could do. He was the one about to kill Jones and the Hyena.

And less than a week after coming back, he tried to kill another teammate. Her sympathy meter is almost at zero by now. She really doesn't want to see him.

But at the same time, she can't not know how he's doing. Ruby's just not sure how she'll find out. She's not going to visit him in the asylum; that would just be paperwork and and an awkward conversation. She's too proud to wait for Duncan to come back and ask him. And if she doesn't ask Duncan will never bring it up.

The logical part of her says that it can't be that bad in the mental ward. After all, Ms. Holiday suggested it as an alternative to prison. And since Heathcliff is a kid, the hospital staff would make sure to treat him reasonably well; books to read, people to talk to, things to do.

Ruby sneezes. She's allergic to wishful thinking. She knows that the staff would probably never think of those things, and Heathcliff is way too proud to enjoy any of them anyway. She sighs. Life was so much easier with Choppers on the team, back when the old director was still in charge and Jackson Jones was just another stupid bully. Back then she had almost unlimited freedom to lead the team as she wanted to and Heathcliff was second-in-command and everyone trusted each other and she had full faith in her teammates. Now...

Ruby abruptly stands up and heads for home, wondering if Heathcliff can even _get_ letters in the mental asylum.


	3. Chapter 3

It's fortunate for the hospital staff that they know better than to put him in a padded cell. This room is almost like his own, back home: spacious, clean, neat. The main difference, of course, is that there is absolutely nothing to do. No books to read. No pen and paper to write down his master plans. No matches to light things on fire and watch them burn. They had told him he could be getting a roommate if they decided he was well-behaved enough, but evidently that wouldn't be for a while, especially after the idiotic moron of a guard reported his threat to Duncan in the visiting room. It wasn't a threat! ...well, yes, it was, but more importantly it was evil gloating, and you don't report evil gloating!

Heathcliff lies on his back and glares at the ceiling.

He knows his goon will come eventually, but waiting is so hard.

For his own safety the asylum staff won't let him near the interesting patients: the visionaries, the intellectuals, the nerds. Heathcliff isn't sure why they're so cautious. It's not like he asked to see Saxon Trace.

There is a knock on his door. Whoever is knocking must be an idiot; with the straitjacket he's wearing, Heathcliff can't open the door, and even if he could, he wasn't about to let anyone in.

Dr. Paisley Venn, a psychiatrist, opens the door. "Heathcliff? Are you awake?"

He glares at her, wishing that she would go away and bother some other patient here. That's unlikely, though; Dr. Venn is a specialist in treating children. He is the only child in the asylum.

"Yes, I am awake." He does not sit up or even open his eyes.

"It is time for your scheduled appointment," she reminds him. When he doesn't move, she says: "I'm allowed to take the straitjacket off, if you would let me."

This gets a reaction. Heathcliff sits up straight and smiles as much as he can without showing his nonexistent front teeth. When his arms are free he clasps his hands in front of him, suddenly feeling much more generous towards this doctor. When he takes over the world, she'll be one of the ones that survive.

"Come on, let's go," she says, stepping out the door in a businesslike manner. Unlike the other doctors here, she does not try to hold his hand before they start walking; that's for really little kids, not people his age. In a way she's showing that she trusts him to follow. Heathcliff isn't sure how he feels about that, but he's grateful for the respect, and so he follows.

Dr. Venn guides him to the therapy rooms. Heathcliff hasn't been inside the bigger ones yet; they're for group therapy, and he's been ruled too isolated to benefit from that. Instead the two of them head into a smaller but still spacious area. It has a desk and two of those plastic lawn chairs.

They sit. Dr. Venn brings her clipboard up and glances at the first page again.

"You've been doing really well," she begins. "But that's to be expected, of course. None of the tests you've taken seem to indicate any kind of mental illness." She blinks at the board as if she's only just realized the paradox of having a sane mental patient.

Heathcliff waits for her to restore eye contact before he speaks. "See? I told you I'm not crazy."

"Yes. Well." Another quick glance at the clipboard. "Is there anything you want to talk about today?"

There is a short silence as Heathcliff stares at her with suspicious eyes, and thinks. This would be the prime opportunity to complain about how boring the place is, or maybe try to corrupt this doctor and get her to help him escape, or maybe just give her the silent treatment and let her get frustrated just like he did at trying to reason with someone who never listens.

The truth is, though, there is something he'd like to talk about.

"Duncan Dewey."

Dr. Venn flips to a page and writes down the name. "Your visitor?"

"Yeah." He is reminded that even if Dr. Venn is sympathetic, she's still a lot slower than he is. "Isn't it all on the file?"

"Of course." Technically true, but Heathcliff knows that her somewhat snippy answer is just to protect herself from admitting to a weakness. She continues: "What about Duncan Dewey?"

"He's a lot like you."

This gets the reaction he was hoping for. Dr. Venn drops the clipboard flat on the table. Her eyes widen, and she's looking at him with a sort of odd curiosity. A more experienced psychologist, particularly one used to dealing with the criminally insane, wouldn't have fallen for this. They would expect that the client would try to shine the spotlight on the doctor. Turn the tables. Psychoanalyze them.

He knows that Dr. Venn had been specifically hired to treat him, but he hadn't realized how new she is to this. Now he does, and that is a weakness he can exploit.

"Heathcliff, we are not here to talk about me."

"I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about how Duncan Dewey is like you. There is a big difference."

Now is an important part. Will she let him get away with this? If so then she's just as narcissistic as the rest of the world, willing to bend the rules a bit when it comes to herself. Or, she could be like Ruby, who'd follow the rules no matter what even if it meant betraying someone who trusted her.

They hold eye contact. It's a regular old staring contest from school, and Heathcliff knows he's going to win. He's had a lot of time to practice, as this is the only kind of intimidation that he's capable of.

_You'd better not shut me up. We're playing on my terms and you can't change that._

_After all, this is the only way you'll get me to talk about my so-called "victims", Doctor._

She caves. "Alright. Go ahead. How is Duncan like... me?"

"You're smart, but you have absolutely no idea what you're dealing with." He looks away, to the floor. "Duncan insists on believing that everything will turn out alright in the end. Apparently we nerds are so inherently special that we'll win if we just let the jocks trample all over us. The truth is, he's just too lazy to try and make things better for himself."

"And because of that, you tried to kill him?" Dr. Venn's momentary discomfort is long forgotten now, she's looking at him with a look of pure horror. Oops. That was a tactical mistake.

"I didn't try to kill him. That was that psycho, Mam- Mrs. Nebitt. I only wanted to get him to admit he was wrong. You see, I would have left him alone... but he's got the rest of the team pretty much eating out of his hand. Flinch is his best friend, Matilda has a crush on him, Ruby thinks he's the most reliable of all of us... As long as he says that I'm the one who's wrong, none of the others will even dare to help me even if I'm right!"

Dr. Venn nods. She's probably relieved that her image of Heathcliff-as-a-hurt-little-boy is back in place, that he's not attacking her or lying for no reason or bragging about the atrocities he may or may not have committed.

He's got her right where he wants.

The session continues. Heathcliff talks more about his hatred of Duncan, his disappointment with mankind, and the utopia that could have been had Jigsaw succeeded.

At the end, Dr. Venn glances at her watch and says, "Thank you for talking with me today, Heathcliff. It appears that we've run out of time. I have another client to talk to, but I'll see you next week, alright? And I'll try to get you into the group therapy sessions so that you can meet the other patients. Does that sound good?"

"Finally." He gets up and they start walking back to his cell. Then, of course, he realizes what she's just said. "Wait, another client? Aren't you a children's psychologist? Weren't you only hired to treat me?"

She shrugs, then smiles. "We're not here to talk about the other patients, Heathcliff."


	4. Chapter 4

Doctor Venn is the newest employee at the asylum. She was hired a week after Heathcliff was brought here, and as she hasn't quit yet, it would seem that she is strong enough for the job.

When she came in for the job interview, the interviewer said that most new workers resigned after a couple of days dealing with the world's most dangerous criminals. There was nothing wrong with that, of course, not everyone could handle the stress - but it would be easier for everyone if the person hired would last a reasonable period of time.

The other workers here are apparently tough enough to last a while. She passes them in the hallways - Doctor Knox, specializes in the medication given to the patients, has been here for fourteen years. Doctor Jiang, profiles the new arrivals, been here for twenty. Both have gentle smiles and sharp eyes. Neither shows any signs of leaving anytime soon.

As she makes her way into her "office" - really almost a closet in the back hallway - Venn wonders how long those two had intended to stay at the asylum. It's not the kind of job she herself would like to work at for the rest of her life: too many disturbing individuals, all waiting for a chance to devour the psychiatrists whole. If she's ever expected to deal with them, she'll quit.

For right now, however, it seems alright. She's only dealing with one boy, and he's not like most of the criminals here. Children can be monsters, of course; Paisley learned that when she was bullied in elementary school. But Heathcliff is not a monster.

His file is as long as her arm. She's allowed to see all of it - or maybe only most of it. Enough to know about his background, at least.

He's an only child, mercilessly bullied ever since preschool, and the one responsible for destroying Greenland. He has problems with kids younger than him, kids older than him, and especially kids his own age. His school counselor notes that this probably has to do with his extraordinarily high intelligence.

The last note reminds Venn of a children's book she's read, about a twelve-year-old mastermind with a similar problem.

It must be pretty boring for Heathcliff to sit alone with his thoughts all day. Venn decides that she'll search for the book, and if possible, bring it with her next time she visits.

If only she could remember the title.


	5. Chapter 5

Julio Escala doesn't think of himself as an observant person, even though he often notices things the others don't, even though his upgrades give him heightened senses. Smart people like Ruby and Duncan are observant. Flinch isn't. He's an idiot; everyone more or less says so, and honestly, he doesn't really care.

When he's training with Matilda, the team's other not-smart-but-still-somehow-a nerd, he decides to tell her about what he's observed.

"Have you noticed anything different about Ruby lately?" he asks.

"Nope." She swings a flashlight - today's weapon of choice- at him. "What do you mean?"

Flinch dodges quickly. "Well, ever since Heathcliff came back, she hasn't really been herself."

"Really? Hadn't noticed."

"And she was like this when everyone thought Heathcliff was dead, too. Do you think we should talk to her about it?" He starts running, trying to get a good start for when she inevitably starts flying and he has to jump to get her down.

"About what?" Matilda presses the button on her inhaler and suddenly she's ten feet in the air. "Heathcliff isn't one of us anymore. Especially after trying to kill Duncan. If Ruby's upset that Choppers isn't on the team anymore, that's her problem. I'm not talking to her about it."

"So you think that's what's bothering her, too?"

"Probably." She dives down, hits him once across the face. "You don't walk home with Ruby after school. Most of the time she's quiet, but when she does talk, half the time it's about something stupid one of you guys did. Mostly Jackson now that he's on the team. Used to mostly be you. Sometimes she talks about Duncan-" Matilda frowns, only for a second, but long enough for Flinch to notice - "and a lot of times, it would be about Heathcliff."

She tries a kick, but Flinch is ready this time. He dodges, reaches for her sleeve, pulls her down. She aims her other inhaler at him, and he's forced to let go to get out of the way.

"Anyway," she continues, "when she's talking about Heathcliff, she does not let it go. Always repeating it, always telling me what she wanted to say but didn't. If she wasn't so angry I would've thought she had a crush on him."

Julio blinks. That's something to think about.

He lets the discussion drop, and puts his focus back on the training itself, where it should be.


End file.
